Chapter 504 – Hellish frost [10]

(POV – Gregory Veyder)

Gregory didn't like anomalies. A lot of people didn't. Anomalies were... beasts. At best, they were soulless animals, without purpose and with no real ability to understand the human world. Creatures that existed by their own rules, driven by instincts no one could ever fully comprehend. They didn't care about humans. They didn't care about their feelings, their families, or the pain they caused.

To an anomaly, a person's life seemed to be worth no more than a stone in the road. And why would it be any different? Anomalies were nothing more than beasts with different forms and abilities. Some could look human, speak like humans, and even display emotions similar to those of humans, but that didn't change what they truly were.

At least, that was what Gregory believed. He wasn't the only one. Anomalies caused destruction. They left corpses behind. They dragged people from their homes, destroyed cities, and turned entire lives into tragedies no one could ever forget. They were animals. No... They were less than animals. Animals didn't attack without reason. They hunted to feed themselves, fought to defend themselves, or protected their territory and offspring.

Even the most dangerous predators were driven by some basic necessity. Anomalies, on the other hand... Gregory had seen too much to believe they all acted out of necessity. Some attacked simply because they could. Others seemed to enjoy the suffering they caused. And then there were those that simply cornered people, prolonged their moments of desperation, and only killed them afterward. For the sheer pleasure of it.

Gregory couldn't prove that was the case every time. He didn't know whether some hidden purpose lay behind every massacre, or whether certain anomalies were actually capable of feeling something resembling compassion. But he carried one grim certainty, forged over years of witnessing the destruction left behind by anomalies: When an anomaly cornered a human being, when it made them beg for their life and still continued... More often than not, it wasn't because it needed to kill them.

It was simply because it enjoyed it. And to Gregory, there was no distinction more important than that. Gregory had also lost his family to an anomaly. But he was far from the only one. In fact, that wasn't necessarily unusual among the organization's agents. Many carried similar stories, their pasts scarred by tragedies that could hardly be explained to anyone from the outside.

Many knew the same pain. The same scars that didn't simply disappear with the passing of years. And that ended up being one of the main reasons people joined the organization. In a way, it made sense. After all, who in their right mind would willingly take a job where they could die at any moment? A job where they were sent into operational zones with little to no prior information about what they would find, let alone what they would have to face?

You had to be a little crazy... Or simply have nothing left to lose. Perhaps that was exactly why so many agents ended up there. Some sought revenge. Others wanted to prevent more people from going through the same hell they had experienced. And there were those who simply couldn't imagine a future far away from anomalies. There was a running joke among the organization's agents that they all practically considered themselves expendable assets.

And considering how many people died over the years, it wasn't exactly a joke without any basis. Many agents eventually met their end during operations. Some were killed by anomalies they didn't understand. Others simply disappeared in places from which no one could return. There were also those who, after losing so much, seemed to have accepted their own deaths long before they finally arrived.

In fact, out of every ten agents, at least six or seven displayed suicidal tendencies. But none of that mattered now. The only thing that truly mattered was that Gregory had been saved. Saved by an anomaly, of all things. Death was no stranger to Gregory. Many of his comrades had already died. Over the years, he had witnessed more deaths than a single lifetime should ever have been forced to endure, almost all of them caused by anomalies.

His own family had been ripped away from him by one. Because of that, Gregory had always known that he would probably die at the hands of an anomaly. And, to be honest, that was how he wanted his life to end. He wanted to die in combat, a weapon in his hands and his finger steady on the trigger, putting a bullet through the head of one of the countless abominations that appeared every day, flooding his world with death.

He wanted his final moment to be devoted to what he had spent his entire life doing: Fighting. Not being saved. And certainly not by an anomaly. Gregory would never accept an anomaly's help. He didn't want an anomaly's help. Anomalies were evil. They were evil incarnate, threats that had to be fought before they destroyed whatever remained of humanity.

Humans were survivors. That was what Gregory believed. Survivors trying to stay alive in a world that, with every passing day, seemed to belong a little less to humanity and a little more to the anomalies. A world where every street could hide a new anomaly capable of killing dozens of people. Where every alarm could announce the end of an entire family.

Where the mere idea of trusting an anomaly seemed as absurd as placing your own life in the hands of the enemy. And yet... Gregory was alive. Because of one of them. He clenched his teeth, feeling the weight of that reality settle somewhere deep inside his chest. Gregory didn't like it. Not one bit.

“Sir, we're awaiting your orders” The voice of one of Gregory's men echoed through his earpiece, low and slightly muffled by the background noise.

Around him, every agent remained in position, forming a careful perimeter around the anomaly. Their weapons were still trained on it, fingers resting near the triggers, ready to react to the slightest sign of danger. No one dared relax. One order from Gregory, and the anomaly, no matter how friendly it appeared at the moment, would be turned into a pincushion.

Gregory kept his eyes fixed on it. His expression remained stern, his attention never wavering for even a moment: “Stay on standby” he ordered, his voice low and firm: “And stay alert. Don't let your guard down for any reason. It may look friendly right now, but we have no way of knowing how long this act is going to last”

There was a brief pause. Gregory narrowed his eyes slightly: “If it makes any suspicious movement, notify me immediately. I don't want anyone acting on their own”

“Yes, sir” the agent replied over the communicator.

Gregory's order produced an immediate reaction. None of the agents fired. They didn't retreat, either, nor did they advance. They simply remained where they were, subtly adjusting their stances and refocusing their attention on the anomaly. The weapons stayed trained on it, and every agent carefully tracked its movements, waiting for the slightest sign of a change.

For now, the anomaly hadn't done anything that justified an attack. But Gregory knew that could change at any moment. And when it did, he had no intention of being caught off guard. Gregory knew the anomaly. He wasn't necessarily from this region, but that hardly mattered.

Practically every base around the world maintained some kind of dossier containing information about its characteristics, abilities, and, most importantly, known behavioral patterns. The same applied to the other anomalies that shared the same classification and were simply known as its “sisters.” And every one of them was dangerous.

Dangerous on a level that went far beyond the comprehension of most human beings. Not that ordinary anomalies weren't terrifying enough on their own. Some were capable of destroying entire cities or causing phenomena that defied every known law. But these were different. It was as though everything that made an anomaly dangerous had been raised to the tenth power.

Their anomalous abilities were extraordinarily unique, unpredictable, and powerful, capable of accomplishing feats that would seem simply impossible to any ordinary person. And yet, all of them were considered “friendly” Gregory nearly let out a bitter laugh at the thought.

Friendly. It was a dangerous word to use when describing an anomaly. Maybe they really were. Maybe these entities truly had no intention of harming humans. But Gregory couldn't ignore a much simpler possibility: All it would take was one bad day, one change in mood, or one unexpected situation for millions of people to end up paying the price.

That was how anomalies worked. Unpredictable. One moment, they could appear perfectly friendly, perhaps even helping human beings. The next, they could turn the same place into a living hell without warning. Gregory wasn't going to fall for that kind of trap. It didn't matter how harmless, docile, or even friendly this anomaly appeared.

He knew the nature of anomalies far too well to lower his guard. Trusting one was out of the question. In fact, if he had to choose between trusting an anomaly and dying while keeping his distance from it, Gregory would rather die. He would never thank an anomaly. Much less trust one.

***

(POV – Protagonist)

I'm not going to lie and say I expected hugs, tears of happiness, praises sung in my honor, or any other kind of fanatical worship simply because I had just saved these people's lives. That would have been a little much. However... I can say with absolute certainty that having several guns pointed directly at my face was at the very bottom of my list of things they might do.

I slightly furrowed my brow. I wasn't an idiot. I knew I was an anomaly. I also knew that people outside my circle could be afraid of me or, at the very least, feel uneasy around me. Honestly, considering the amount of shit anomalies had been pulling over the past few years, it would've been strange if things were any different.

I could understand that. What I couldn't understand was this. After everything, I genuinely expected them to at least look a little more relieved to still be alive, even if they didn't thank me or show any exaggerated gratitude. But no. They were looking at me as if they genuinely wanted me to simply disappear from their sight.

It was a strange look. My gaze dropped for a moment, moving over the weapons pointed in my direction, before slowly returning to the faces in front of me... Right. Maybe it would be better not to make any sudden movements. With all these guns pointed directly at my forehead... I guess I should get the hell out of here, right? This didn't exactly seem like the best time to try and start a conversation.